


Make Me a Mute

by northerndanpour (nagirci)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Smut, but??? it's kind of a small mention idk, i'm putting it here in celebration, trigger warning for blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagirci/pseuds/northerndanpour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dan’s pulse is racing fast, the backbeat to the obscene and ostentatious moans that fall from his mouth. When he’s seeing black as the sheet muffles his sounds and blocks his vision, it’s hard to remember that this is just for fun, just for fun. It’s fucking dangerous fun, is what it is, but now Dan’s had enough of just playing a game as he turns his head to the side, hair fanning out around him in a way that sends shockwaves through Phil’s body. "You c-can-" He gasps, interrupting himself as he feels Phil’s cool breath ghosting on the skin of his neck. "You can do it now."</p>
<p>In the haze of passion, he can only just about hear a reply, whispered into his flesh and making him shiver. “What?” Phil’s voice asks, as husky as his own was.</p>
<p>"Bite me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me a Mute

**Author's Note:**

> sweats nervously i hope i pulled this off!!! [here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zh3eG7HgnCM) the song that this was based off of if u want that

It isn’t the way into Dan’s heart, into his head, into his brain - or anything else. He’s bored, bored out of his fucking mind, and it’s all he can think about.

Twiddling his thumbs and staring into space for want of a better way to pass the time, he can only think about those lips and those legs and those teeth, _god_ , those teeth. It’s dangerous, how much he loves the feel of those teeth at the sensitive flesh of his neck, his collarbones, that mouth nibbling and kissing and sucking a trail of bruises like only he knows how. It’s silly and stupid and reckless and _dangerous_ , but Dan always comes back to it, to those lips and those legs and that boy whispering his name into his skin.

He shivers at even the thought. He’s really lost, isn’t he? It’s less love than desire, so he tells himself, but is that even true? Yes. It has to be, because they’d never really work past teeth on skin and whispers into pillows and moans tangled in bed sheets. Phil is a fire, despite being as cold as ice, and Dan can’t ever possibly compare. It’s all for kicks, just for fun, it’s all for the thrill of flirting with death; quite literally, too. It’s all just his way of expressing something deep inside of him, succumbing to something dark and easily tempted that tells him he loves every minute, loves every moment.

And he does - having his arms pinned above his head and being kissed and sucked until he’s done, until he can hear his pulse in his ears louder than any drum he’s ever heard, gives him a kind of exhilaration that floods through his veins and makes him feel alive.

I will say this again - It’s not the way into his heart or into his head or into his brain, or into any of them.

He lets his eyes move from the patch of carpet where they have been so firmly focused to the computer screen before him, the glow bright in his tired eyes. He looks at all the files he has yet to open and edit and check and upload later, and knows that he has to knuckle down and ignore his thoughts as best as he can, because he might be bored, but he kind of has a job. And it’s the best job he could possibly ask for, a job where he can make other people smile and laugh and still enjoy himself and, honestly, he should be eager to get something out to keep it up. He should want to make others happy.

He looks at the clock in the corner of his screen, to find that it’s nine o'clock and getting later. It’s not even that late yet, he supposes, but it’s still dark outside. The sun lowered hours ago, and he’s been sat here since before then, doing nothing but sitting in a chair and pretending to edit while really, he still distracted by the tedium of forced work, distracted by the prospect of something far more exciting to be doing. Something far more dangerous mind you, if anyone were to find out, but Dan ever really liked the idea of being safe anyway. It’s dark outside now. Maybe he could just leave this, just for a few hours, and then-

No, he shouldn’t. He hasn’t got enough time. He’s got to get this done, get this sorted, and then he can do whatever he wants. He’s just got to wait until this is finished; he can last for that long, surely. He’s gone longer. He’s gone weeks before, even though he still gave in eventually. Besides, it’s so bad for him. It slows him down, makes him drowsy for days on end sometimes. And then he _definitely_ won’t get anything done, because he can’t work tired. He doesn’t want to make people wait, just because he’s a bit of a selfish bastard.

But it’s clear, about ten minutes into the process after he’s clicked at file after file and made jump cut after jump cut that he isn’t going to get anything done. His knee is jumping up and down listlessly, and he’s so unfocused that he’s almost deleted the file too many times. He rubs his eyes, groaning in frustration, because he was _supposed_ to have this already done. He was _supposed_ to be able to set this up to upload and then do what he wished. But he can’t, because it’s not finished, because he _can’t_ finish it. Not now, anyway. There are far more important things to deal with.

With a final dissatisfied sigh, he exits out of the program and decides to start again when he’s more focused and calm. And maybe that’s a good thing, too, because he’s in such a rush that he almost forgets to grab his keys and phone before he leaves, hurriedly stuffing his arms in his jacket.

The air is refreshingly chill compared with the suffocating warmth of the apartment, and it’s almost a shame that the walk to where Phil is won’t last for very long because the air is crisp and clear and Dan can see the stars, a luxury considering where he lives. It calms him just a little bit as he slips his hands into his pockets, already feeling the cold. But he still can’t wait to see Phil, because every time he lays eyes on those eyes and those lips and that body he knows maybe a little too well, he can feel his heart skip a beat, sometimes like it isn’t just desire. But it is. So he tells himself.

The house looks a lot like any other, except for the curtains being drawn thick and tight and no light being visible from behind them. That’s the only thing Dan really hates about Phil - no lights. It’s not that he can’t tell if the boy is awake, because he knows he is. It’s just the fact that he can never really see a fucking thing, and sometimes it just feels like Phil gets a little bit too into character. But he understands the precautions, even if he doesn’t like them - anyway, having the lights out does make things a little more exciting when he can’t see what’s coming, when he doesn’t know what to expect.

He knows he doesn’t need to knock, but does so anyway for courtesy’s sake. He knows Phil would probably have heard him coming, and is probably right by the door anyway, and the idea of him being poised at the handle is a good one because it means that it’d be a good night for what Dan wants. He grins. A good night, indeed.

And sure enough, no sooner has Dan drawn his hand back from the wood does it creak open, and no sooner are his hands back behind his back is Phil standing there, pale skin and cobalt eyes and raven hair and those _teeth_ , straight and white as they form an amused grin and as Phil stands aside to let Dan into the dark depths of his home. He’s so ethereally beautiful, and sometimes Dan finds himself forgetting that until he sees him again, until he steps into the darkness of Phil’s house. “You’re here early,” the man remarks, tone light and ever so slightly teasing as he closes the door behind Dan. He doesn’t usually show until the early hours, when every sane person is wrapped up in bed asleep, and when there is no chance of being caught.

“Yeah, well,” the boy grins, pulling off his jacket and hanging it on the rack by the door. He stretches just a little, the cold air having woken him up from the stupor in which he sat at the computer, making him feel edgy and light and, _god_ , even less focused. He can’t keep his eyes away from Phil’s mouth and it’s so beautifully distracting, how soft his lips look and how white his teeth are. “You know what working does to me.”

Phil laughs. “Mmm. Sometimes, I think I know a bit too well, actually.”

Dan chuckles as he slides his arms around Phil’s waist and ducks his head that tiny distance to kiss him, the elder’s lips cool under his own and his porcelain skin ice under his fingers. That was off putting, at first, how Phil never warmed up and how he never lit his apartment and the way that his lips seemed so delicately skilled underneath Dan’s, pink and plush and perfect as they led his movements and sent shivers through Dan’s body. But now he’s used to it, it makes him feel an emotion he never thought he would before. Phil is a flame, and he makes Dan feel very awake and very alive despite being corpse cold under his touch.

Phil pulls off of Dan’s mouth. “You know,” he says, smirking. “You can’t just come here every time you’re horny. What if I just… happened not to be?” And he might just be outright teasing, because of course he is, with Dan’s rough, bitten lips making his own tingle and with the touch of his arms sending sparks across his flesh. But that doesn’t matter. It’s what Dan likes, and it’s what he likes to watch. He likes to watch Dan squirm; he likes to know that it’s him that’s done that to him, he likes to know that some of Dan’s thoughts about him are not clean or nice or anything that demonstrates restraint. He likes to know he’s in control.

And in control, he is. The younger boy shudders in his hold, sighing out disapproval as Phil snickers because he doesn’t have time for this. He wants to be kissed and bitten and marked and _made someone else’s_ and he’s not in the mood, even though it makes this more fun for Phil when he plays along with it. “Don’t fucking do this now,” he whispers, and reattaches their lips quickly and wantonly, swallowing the sound of the other man’s laughter and letting silence fill the air between them.

Phil’s hands wander down to the subtle jut of Dan’s hips, the pads of his fingertips gripping at the bones to both keep them steadily stood and to keep him on top of things. But whereas Phil’s hands slide down, Dan’s rise, running the divots and bumps behind his shirt - his stomach, his ribcage, his pectorals until they find Phil’s black hair and knot themselves in it tightly, keeping Phil where he is for the moment, at Dan’s mouth, kissing him hotly and making his stomach stir. And Dan can feel Phil’s teeth, pointed as they brush his bottom lip, but counteracted by the clever movement of Phil’s mouth. Still, it doesn’t stop him from murmuring, “Your teeth are really fucking sharp.”

Phil laughs into the contact. “See, you wouldn’t have that problem if you didn’t ask me to do this all the time.”

“And _you_ wouldn’t have that problem,” Dan retorts, muffled by skin on skin, “if you’d have just turned me in the first place.”

Phil shakes his head, fingers moving to the hem of Dan’s shirt and folding it up over his head, watching as Dan’s slender arms follow his motions. He couldn’t have done that, not ever, not if it meant Dan could have died. Phil barely remembers what it was like when he was turned, but there’s one feature he will never forget about it - it hurt. It hurt, so fucking much. It wasn’t the ecstasy that novels made it out to be; it was metamorphosis, transformation from one thing into another, and boy, did it fucking burn. He couldn’t have inflicted that on Dan without Dan’s consent because not only is it wrong, it’s a death sentence.

He doesn’t say any of that, though, just shuts his eyes and presses his mouth back to the other man’s, slides his tongue in the gap between Dan’s lips, earning a positively sinful moan in response. That’s another thing Phil loves about playing around with the younger boy - he’s so easily moulded, putty in his hands. Phil knows the right buttons to press and when to press them and, well, it’s times like these when they really come in handy. He flicks his tongue cleverly along Dan’s teeth, liking how they feel so beautifully blunt in comparison with his own, permanent razors in between his lips.

Dan’s hands slide from out of Phil’s hair, falling down his body in a swift and sensual motion that he’s practised maybe a little too much, until his fingers find Phil’s and lace themselves in Phil’s cold hands. “Upstairs,” he sighs into Phil’s mouth, giving a small tug, eagerly trying to move to somewhere that they’ll be comfortable before the inevitable happens. Not that it hasn’t happened in the hallway before, but Dan doesn’t really like the idea of having to deal with carpet burns again. He’s got enough to cover up at his collarbones, at his neck.

Phil nods and leads him upstairs in the dark, noticing that Dan doesn’t flinch anymore at the change of temperature where he used to do so all the time. It could just be Phil’s imagination, but there’s something in his head that tells him it’s the way his icy hands fold around Dan’s that are responsible.

The minute the door closes behind them, Phil presses Dan against the nearest wall and slips his hands down to the waistband of the boy’s jeans, pushing them down to his thighs, working them off as quickly as he can. Dan wriggles out of them, leaving them discarded in a heap next to them as he kisses Phil, slowly, fucking his tongue into his mouth and feeling the sharp points of Phil’s canines digging into him just a little bit as he licks over them. It’s weird, the idea of that was foreign not long ago. Now it makes his heart flip inside his chest.

Phil removes his hands to work at the buttons on his shirt and Dan sits over on the bed, watching as Phil pulls the material off of his arms, leaving him all snow white skin and fumbling hands as he pushes himself out of his jeans. The way he moves makes Dan feel something inside of him flare because, _god_ , he’s gorgeous. For someone he should really be scared of, Phil gets him off a bit too much.

And then he’s lying down as Phil moves over and straddles him, legs long and elegant on either side of his body as he leans up to match their mouths again. His hands work up the freezing skin of Phil’s torso, meeting at the nape of his neck to keep him pressed to his lips and close to his body. He likes the way Phil moves, the way he smells, the way he _feels_ as he bears down on Dan’s flesh. I’ll repeat it for the final time - this is not the way into Dan’s heart, into his head, into his brain, into none of the above.

Phil reaches out and opens the drawer to the side of them, pulling out the small bottle of lube that Dan knows he keeps there for times like this. He pushes Dan’s boxers over the curve of his ass, down his legs, and slicks up his fingers before he presses two of them into the boy who moans, loudly and carelessly, he sound spurring Phil to move his fingers quickly in and out, curling them before he adds a third digit, just to make sure Dan isn’t hurt. Which of course, he isn’t really - stretching is unpleasant, but he knows it has to be done.

Dan squeezes his eyes shut tight as he feels Phil’s lips move down, kissing his jaw line and sucking marks onto the skin, nipping gently as he works his way down and down and down until his mouth is at Dan’s neck and, fuck, Dan can barely stifle the gasp that sounds from him as Phil sucks and bites a bruise onto that exact spot, because that isn’t fair. Phil’s messing about, and that isn’t fair. “Fucking tease,” he groans, opening up cinnamon eyes to find Phil staring back up on him, a cocky smirk on his face that Dan swears drives him insane.

But he notices something else. Even in the dark, it’s not hard to notice how Phil’s pupils are blown out so big that his eyes are more black than blue. And because that’s not really ideal, and because he knows what that means, he goes to lean his neck towards Phil’s lips, offering skin and skin and skin. But Phil shakes his head as he pulls his fingers out of Dan and coats himself, stroking some of the lube over his dick and leaning forward to grab Dan’s wrists in one hand and hold them above his head. He guides himself in, earning a string of curse words from the man next to him, the man whose flesh is warm and whose heart is beat, beat, beating too loudly in Phil’s ears.

The older boy turns Dan’s head, pressing Dan’s face into the bed and stifling the noise that he’s making. Dan loves that, he loves it a lot. Something about not being able to see where Phil is going or what he’s doing makes Dan feel just a little bit edgy and very much _excited_ \- he could feel those teeth at any time. He could feel anything. And no matter what it’ll be, it’ll be just for fun, just for fun, just for another high.

Besides, and he admits this to himself as well as having heard Phil say it so much, he moans like a whore. He wants to be made a mute.

Phil closes his eyes for a second, pulling out just a little and then rocking his hips forward so that Dan arches his back, biting into his lower lip to try and keep himself quiet. His neck is almost in Phil’s mouth and it’s all Phil can think about, even as he shake his head and repeats his motions, thrusting in and out of Dan and trying to find that one spot he knows will tip Dan over the edge sooner or later. He knows Dan well enough to know where it is, and when he brushes against it, Dan can’t keep in his scream.

But it’s not enough. All Phil can think about is Dan’s heart, beat, beat, beating too loudly in his ears. He can smell Dan, smell the sweat and almost the desire and eagerness, and it’d be funny at any other time, it’d be funny if Phil wasn’t trying to stop himself from feeling the same thing.

Dan’s pulse is racing fast, the backbeat to the obscene and ostentatious moans that fall from his mouth. When he’s seeing black as the sheet muffles his sounds and blocks his vision, it’s hard to remember that this is just for fun, just for fun. It’s fucking dangerous fun, is what it is, but now Dan’s had enough of just playing a game as he turns his head to the side, hair fanning out around him in a way that sends shockwaves through Phil’s body. “You c-can-” He gasps, interrupting himself as he feels Phil’s cool breath ghosting on the skin of his neck. “You can do it now.”

In the haze of passion, he can only just about hear a reply, whispered into his flesh and making him shiver. “What?” Phil’s voice asks, as husky as his own was.

“Bite me.”

As Phil moves, he drags his stomach over Dan’s cock. His grip on the boy’s wrists loosens, so Dan moves his hand to tangle his fingers in Phil’s hair. He watches as Phil grits his teeth and starts fucking into him harder, and says the same thing he always does, because it’s just the right and safe thing to do.“You know I might not be able to stop.”

And Dan groans, “Fucking hell, Phil, _please_.”

Phil takes a deep breath, feeling Dan shudder under his touch as he grazes the olive skin with sharp canines, not even enough to scratch. Dan’s skin is hot, flushed and glowing with sweat, and Phil can feel the heat radiating from him and, well, it scares him a bit because it’s a reminder that Dan is fragile and breathing and oh so _human_. But as he drives himself deep into the boy again, revelling into the sound he earns that falls from Dan’s lips like a waterfall, it’s enough for him to know that Dan wants this and _fuck_ , so does he. He presses down and sinks his teeth into the junction between Dan’s neck and his shoulders, right where the two meet, and Dan hisses out and arches himself into the contact.

Phil laps and sucks at the skin, digging his teeth deeper until he can feel Dan’s blood, sweet and ruby red, flowing out from under his lips and staining his own mouth the very same hue. He takes care to glance up at Dan every now and again to make sure he’s not going too far, the black semicircle of the boy’s closed eyes and the blissful look on his face and the taste of his flesh pushing Phil closer and closer to an undrawn line.

“Jesus, Phil,” Dan whines out, and Phil knows exactly what he means when he begs again, “ _please_.”

And he doesn’t want to know what he means, but he does. He can feel Dan’s blood trickling down his chin and feel Dan’s pulse getting slowly lighter, not beating so loudly now that it’s over and done with. He unlatches himself and brings a hand up to wipe over his mouth, smearing blood all over his lips and doing what he can to keep himself from keeping it up because, well, he really doesn’t want to drain Dan.

Dan’s eyes are dark as he presses his mouth to Phil’s again, licking into his mouth and over his lips, tasting himself, and fuck, he feels like he’s burning. There’s a dry burn under his skin that only seems to be relieved by the cool of Phil’s mouth on his flesh and he can’t help but try and offer up more access, just to get the relief that the chill gives him because he’s fucking burning up from the inside, he swears it. He’s breathless from the thrill and from the ache and from everything else, and he’s so warm, and he doesn’t know why.

Dan rocks closer and closer to the edge, floating higher and higher on a wave of something he doesn’t think he’s felt before until everything goes sparkly around the edges, fading in and out in alarming ways as he cries out and as the world finally flashes white around him, and Phil isn’t far behind.

And then when he falls back onto the bed, pillows moulding underneath him, he almost stunned when he feels Phil’s hand cupping him under his chin, and feels his other wrist pressing against his mouth. It’s wet and cool and slippery under his lips until he opens his mouth, licking the fluid and then sucking it because, _god_ , it seems to soothe the burn that settles under his skin. Phil’s blood is copper and cold in his mouth and it makes white hot light spark behind his eyes and sends him floating off into a kind of nothingness that makes him forget the implications of exactly what is happening, and he swallows and swallows until he lets go, lets himself fly away, closes his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

It’s not so dark when he opens them again.

He doesn’t move and he doesn’t breathe because things do not look the same as they did when he arrived. Nothing has visibly changed - the lights are still off, the curtains are still drawn thick and tight across the windows and everything is in exactly the same place as when he last saw it. But the room isn’t as cold as it was when he first arrived, and somehow everything is more seeable in the room as he flicks his eyes around. He presses a hand to his aching head, just wishing that he knew what it was-

“Hey.”

He looks over at the source of the word, at Phil, who is sat next to the bed on which Dan has sat up.  His pale skin is suddenly a lot more visible in the not-so-dark of the room and his blue eyes are smiling in a way that Dan never really noticed anymore. “You probably don’t remember much about what happened, but don’t panic. It’ll come back to you eventually.” He brushes a few strands of Dan’s hair off of his forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

_Shit_ , is Dan’s first honest answer. His head hurts, and so does his neck, and so does everything, a dull ache that makes him feel heavy. But as he stretches out, things come crashing back to him like waves. His clothes, strewn in small heaps across Phil’s carpet. His hands in Phil’s hair. Phil’s teeth at his neck. And suddenly he’s not feeling as drowsy, because he knows what’s happening and he knows what’s gone on, and he smiles and presses his mouth to Phl’s again. Phil make the tiniest noise of surprise, but laughs into the contact as Dan flicks his tongue into his mouth.

“I remember,” Dan murmurs, smiling against Phil’s mouth, new sharp teeth framing the expression.

**Author's Note:**

> this recently hit 100 notes on my [tumblr](http://northerndanpour.tumblr.com) (lol god knows why) so yh that's it i'm always over there if u wanna come say hi to me or something


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